The next day, the clan council gathered with the parents of the cubs, and from the start it was clear where final authority rested. The elders would advise, the Jedi would test, but if the children proved worthy, the choice to let them go belonged to their parents—Asharra spoke for the family, and Carruck stood at her shoulder in full support.
Depa Billaba rose first, dipping her head toward the assembled Wookiees. "Thank you for welcoming us," she said, voice steady and respectful. "We are honored to stand in your village and to meet your young ones."
Yoda followed with a small nod, ears tilting forward. "Grateful for your trust, we are," he added, looking from Asharra to Carruck and then to the elders. "Your hospitality, remembered it will be."
Asharra answered with a firm rumble, her hand resting lightly on the fur of the cub nearest her. Her intent carried clearly, even without shared words: if the Order judged the twins worthy and the tests pointed them toward the Jedi, she would allow them to go. "If your Order finds them worthy, and if the tests say they belong with you, you may take our children. We will not hold them back." Carruck gave a short, backing growl of agreement, the kind of sound that carried the weight of a warrior's promise.
Only after that understanding settled did Yoda speak of the test.
"At so young an age, sense the Force we still can," he said calmly. "In small ways. In instinct."
The setup stayed simple. Depa fetched three carved wooden cups while one of the elders brought out a small, fragrant treat the cubs loved—a sweetened root chunk glazed in warmed sap. In clear sight of parents and council, Depa crouched to the twins' level and held the treat where their noses could reach. Both cubs leaned in, whiskers twitching, and then pounced on it the moment Asharra eased her hand.
The white-furred cub, Aavruun, bit first. The dark-furred cub, Krawruuk, gulped his share in two quick bites, then lunged for the rest—only for Aavruun to jerk his head back and finish the piece in a single determined chew.
Yoda and Depa shared a small smile at the display—sharp appetites, quick reactions.
Depa set three cups on the woven mat between them and, with slow, deliberate movement, placed a fresh treat under one while the twins and the watching adults could see. She tapped the rim once, then drew her hand away.
Both cubs went for it instantly, claws scrabbling on the wood, noses pressed in. They lifted the correct cup in a heartbeat and tore into the reward. Strong instincts, and a sharper sense for anything sweet.
This was repeated a few times to instill there was a treat to be found under the cup.
Then Depa shifted to the real test. She guided the cubs a half-step back, turned their heads gently while Asharra held them steady, but they knew she still had treats.
Then she moved the cups again. The treat slid under one of them while their eyes were forced to stay off the mat and they couldn't see what cup held the treat under it.
The cubs, she noticed, actually stayed pretty calm when they were forced to look away.
For generations, the Order used small games like this on worlds across the Republic. The cubs were too young for the pad test (think where Anakin was guessing the symbol when he couldn't see the pad in The Phantom Menace and couldn't).
Depa turned the cups again, hands moving in a smooth, practiced shuffle while the cubs stayed turned away for a moment longer.
"Ready, we are," Yoda said quietly.
The room settled into a shared stillness as the first small paw reached forward.
Asharra loosened her grip, and both cubs dropped onto the woven mat together. Aavruun's white fur picked up bits of reed fiber as he shifted his weight; Krawruuk's black coat drank in the lamplight. Three cups waited in front of them, lined up in a simple row.
They understood enough. Treat under a cup. Find it, eat it.
That small, shared realization sparked a game between them. Aavruun leaned forward first, shoulders bunching. Krawruuk mirrored him an instant later, amber eyes bright. Without words, the challenge settled in: get there first.
They lunged at the same time. Aavruun bowled into his brother and rolled him sideways, one paw braced on Krawruuk's chest as he reached for the nearest cup. Krawruuk twisted, planted both feet, and used the momentum to scramble over Aavruun's shoulder, claws catching briefly in his brother's fur as he stretched for the middle cup.
Wood clicked. Krawruuk's paw hooked the rim and tipped it. The treat glistened under it. He snapped it up in two greedy bites, a pleased rumble rolling out of him.
Aavruun glared up at him, lips peeled back just enough to show small cub-teeth, then huffed and swatted at Krawruuk's ankle. A few of the watching Wookiees answered with low, amused growls. Yoda's ears twitched, and Depa's mouth curved in a faint, private smile. Healthy competition, quick read of the pattern, good memory of reward.
They ran it again. Cups down. Treat shown. Cups moved in clear sight. Each time, one of the twins lunged for the right one. Half instinct, half scent. The sweet sap smell hung in the air, drifting easily to young noses. To them, it felt simple.
Aavruun's paw kept drifting toward the rightmost cup. Krawruuk favored the middle. Either way, they found the treat every time.
Depa watched the way their noses worked, the small flares of breath, the casual ease. "They track it well," she said quietly, more to Yoda than to anyone else.
He hummed low in his throat. "Strong senses, Wookiee cubs have. Clear, this is."
So she changed the field.
Depa reached into a small pocket inside her robe and drew out a narrow metal canister no bigger than her palm. She gave Asharra a brief, questioning look. Asharra answered with a short grunt of permission, chin lifted.
Depa tilted the canister and gave the air above the cups a short burst.
A thin mist drifted down, carrying a sharp, clean scent—mint and resin together. It wrapped around the cups and settled over the mat, layering itself on top of the lingering sweetness. The sap-smell faded under it, washed out into something flatter and harder to separate.
The twins saw another treat raised, smelled it clearly before it vanished under one of the cups. Their ears flicked forward, noses working. Then Asharra and Carruck gently turned their heads away again while Depa shifted the cups with the same slow, even motion.
When they were set loose, both cubs charged up to the line of cups, noses pressed to the rims.
They inhaled.
Mint. Clean, sharp, everywhere. No clear trail.
Aavruun paused, front paws planted, breath coming in short sniffs as he tried to separate the scents. Krawruuk paced once along the row, nose sliding from one cup to the next. The cluster of smells blurred together on the mat.
They both went still.
Aavruun's ears tilted, just a fraction, toward the leftmost cup. The feeling came like a small lean inside his chest, a quiet sense that this one mattered more than the others. Krawruuk's weight shifted the same direction, claws flexing once against the mat.
They shared a brief glance—more habit than thought—and then moved.
Aavruun sprang first, pushing off with both feet, shoulder brushing Krawruuk as he cut in toward the left-hand cup. Krawruuk lunged a heartbeat later, reaching across him, but Aavruun's paw hit the rim first and flipped it.
The treat bounced once and landed against his claws. He scooped it up and sat back hard on his rump, chewing with clear satisfaction, white fur puffed slightly from the quick burst of effort.
Krawruuk let out a low, annoyed grumble that earned another round of quiet amusement from the Wookiee adults. One of the elders' braids clicked softly as he tipped his head, watching the twins with a more measuring gaze now.
The next round, Depa had them turn around again. When Asharra eased their shoulders and let them look back, six cups waited on the woven mat, lined in a shallow arc like a row of small wooden helmets.
Aavruun and Krawruuk both froze for a heartbeat.
Six. The game had changed.
Their ears tilted forward in the same slow angle. Aavruun felt his brother's focus settle along the row. Krawruuk's gaze moved from cup to cup, then both of them fixed on the same one—the cup to the right, second from the end.
They shared the choice between them in a tight, wordless flicker.
Then they moved.
Both cubs launched at once, fur bristling, claws scrabbling for traction on the mat. Krawruuk drove in low and reached the target first, but Aavruun slammed into his side a heartbeat later, rolling them together in a tangle of limbs and cups. Wood clacked and rattled as they wrestled, each trying to pin the other long enough to grab the prize.
The cup tipped.
A sticky, sweet scent puffed into the air as the treat rolled free.
A few of the elders rumbled in amusement. One of the older hunters let out a sharp bark, teeth flashing in brief approval. Among their people, that kind of struggle counted as good training. Cubs who pushed hard in games grew into warriors who pushed hard in real fights. They learned how far to lean on strength, when to yield, how to read another body in motion.
Aavruun finally hooked a leg over Krawruuk's hip, twisted, and came up with the treat clenched in his jaws. He dropped onto his rump with a satisfied huff, chewing while Krawruuk glared at him, fur dusted with cup-scuffs and loose fibers from the mat.
Depa watched them, breath steady, hands resting lightly on her knees. The twins had chosen fast, even with the extra cups and the sharp mint still hanging over the test. Their eyes moved, their ears shifted, and their attention settled in the same place each time—as if memory, scent, and some quieter pull all leaned toward that one choice together.
Yoda met her gaze over the tops of the cups.
The cubs exceeded what he usually expected from a first session. Most children needed time and repetition before patterns showed clearly. Aavruun and Krawruuk already moved with the kind of easy certainty he associated with talent and a species that lived by its instincts.
They still used their noses and the memory of Depa's hands. Any hunter's child could do that. What interested the Jedi sat in the details—the lack of hesitation, the way both cubs committed to the same cup in the same instant, the way each first reach kept matching the hidden reward as the odds stacked against a simple guess.
Depa reset the line, fingers steady as she righted the scattered cups. The Wookiee council watched with calm interest, the low thrum of their breathing filling the space.
"Again, we will see," Yoda murmured, ears angled toward the brothers already eyeing the mat, ready for the next round.
This time, when Asharra turned them back, twelve cups waited on the woven surface.
Aavruun and Krawruuk stared for a moment, ears flicking as they took in the longer line. Depa had shuffled in silence, hands quick and sure, the mint canister still sitting off to the side. The air over the cups carried only that cool, blunt smell.
Krawruuk moved first, weight shifting toward the middle of the arc. Aavruun felt the pull at the same spot and fell in beside him without a sound. Together they drove toward the central cluster.
Krawruuk reached the chosen cup a breath ahead of his brother and flipped it with a sharp swipe. The treat sat there waiting. He snapped it up and sat back on his haunches, chewing while he watched Aavruun with a look that held clear satisfaction for a cub his size.
If a Wookiee child could gloat, Depa decided, it looked exactly like that.
Yoda's mouth tugged in quiet amusement as Aavruun answered the look by tackling his brother anyway, rolling Krawruuk across the mat even though the treat had already vanished. Cups rattled again. Soft Wookiee laughter rolled around the chamber.
Yoda and Depa shared a look.
"Qualified, the cubs are," Yoda said, voice low but firm. He turned his gaze toward Asharra and Carruck. "Train them, the Jedi will—if you allow it."
Asharra gathered both cubs into her arms as they wrestled, pulling them in against her chest. She held them close for a long moment, muzzle buried in their fur, then lifted her eyes to the Jedi and gave a single, steady nod.
Then Asharra rose with both cubs in her arms and crossed the space to Depa. She held them for a heartbeat longer, fur pressed to her chest, then shifted their small weight into the Jedi's waiting hands.
"Promise me you will keep an eye on them," she said, voice low and steady. "Guide them. Make them strong Jedi."
Depa felt the force of it—sincerity, hope, and the hard edge of a mother's resolve—settling around the words like a quiet pressure in the air. She met Asharra's gaze.
"I will do what I can," Depa answered, "and not what I cannot."
Asharra held her eyes for another breath, then gave a single, firm nod and stepped back. Carruck moved in beside her, one broad paw resting briefly against her shoulder. Together they turned away from the mat and walked toward the council's edge. Drawing it out would only stretch the ache; their choice had already been made.
Yoda watched them go, ears angled in thought. He had felt the same trust and hope that brushed against Depa's senses—but beneath it, something else in Asharra, a quiet belief that her path and her sons' paths would cross again someday.
Interesting, he thought.
His gaze dropped to the twins in Depa's arms. Aavruun and Krawruuk were already reaching for her braid and sleeves, small paws batting and tugging with open curiosity, as if the decision of their future and the weight of the moment belonged to another world entirely.